


collisions in the dark

by Marcia Elena (marciaelena)



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Coda, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Post Episode: s03e09 Fallout, Romance, They're a Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marciaelena/pseuds/Marcia%20Elena
Summary: Eddie and Christopher spend the night at Buck's. Coda to 3x09.
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz & Christopher Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 85
Kudos: 1055





	collisions in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, yeah, I know everyone's already posted their codas for this episode. But there's very little time I can put aside for writing so it took me this long. This was supposed to be pure explicit smut but it being Buck and Eddie all the tender feels got in the way and the smut ended up condensed and toned down.

_"I'd still take you."_

The words put a match to Eddie's parched insides in an instant.

He's leaning against the counter in Buck's half-lit kitchen wondering if Buck's really flirting with him or if his heart's playing tricks on him again. Eddie's suddenly acutely aware of his own body. He's aware of how each article of clothing he's wearing feels against his skin, the slight weight of the different fabrics, how they chafe against his ignited nerve endings with every measured breath he takes. 

He swallows hard. "You think so?" 

"I _know_." Buck struts toward him hips first, hand on his belt and a come hither look on his face. 

Eddie doesn't budge; he feels rooted to the spot. 

Buck smirks. "You wanna go for the title?"

Everything in Eddie's body is straining toward Buck. He wants. He _wants_. 

He shakes his head instead, a nervous smile on his face. Takes a swig from his beer. The tension between them is so thick Eddie feels like he's choking on it.

"Buck," Christopher calls from where he's sitting. 

"Yeah, bud?" Buck's eyes are still on Eddie's, smoldering-blue.

"I wanna play a game," Chris says. "Can we?"

Buck's gaze on Eddie turns softer, full of a tenderness that steals whatever's left of Eddie's breath. "Anything for you, little man." And he leaves Eddie still leaning against the counter as he goes to his son. 

It takes a minute for Eddie to follow. He stands next to the TV and drinks his beer just for something to do while Buck lets Chris pick the game he wants, his body still thrumming.

Buck grins at him when he plops down next to Christopher on the couch. "C'mon, Eddie, this is it. Let's see who comes out on top." The wink he aims at Eddie is full of mischief.

Moving to sit on the other end of the couch, Eddie wonders if this is what Buck had been talking about all along. Nothing more than a stupid video game. 

They play for a while and Eddie wins every single match. Chris is ecstatic next to him, laughing and cheering and it's contagious, the lilt in his son's voice, the ridiculous expressions on Buck's face. Tension leaves Eddie's body in increments, and by the time Chris decides they should watch a movie Eddie doesn't object even though he knows it's past time for them to be headed home. 

Christopher falls asleep twenty minutes into the movie. Buck doesn't seem to notice, or if he does he doesn't say anything, doesn't turn toward Eddie, just sits there with his attention on the screen. Eddie watches them from the corners of his eyes, his best friend and his son, Christopher leaning against Buck and Buck's fingers moving gently in his hair. Warmth pools in Eddie's belly, trembles like a flame in his chest; and it's in the cramped confines of Buck's living room with Moana playing in the background that Eddie thinks _I love them. I love them both so much_.

It's not a revelation. Eddie's loved Christopher since he was barely an idea, two pink lines on a home pregnancy test. He's probably loved Buck since the first time Buck smiled at him; it's hard to pinpoint the one moment when he _knew_ , but it's been there for so long now, burrowing deeper into him every day.

The thought still shakes Eddie to his core. Because seeing them cuddled together like this, Christopher relaxed and trusting and Buck just as relaxed holding Christopher to him, Eddie understands what home means. 

"He's nodded off," Buck says, as gentle as his fingers still combing through Christopher's hair. Still facing the TV.

Eddie matches his tone to Buck's. "He's looking pretty cozy."

Buck turns his head toward Eddie then, a sad smile curling his lips. "I'll carry him to the truck if you wanna get his backpack. I think it got kicked behind the couch when the pizzas arrived."

"No."

"Uh." Buck frowns. "Okay, so I'll get his backpack. I just- I just thought-"

"What I meant was," Eddie says. "I don't wanna wake him."

Buck's lips form an O but no sound comes out. "Sure, yeah," he finally says. "You guys are welcome to spend the night. Uhm, you and Chris can have my bed."

Eddie snorts. "You can't comfortably fit into this couch, Buck. Chris can sleep here." 

Another silent O floats in the space between them. Eddie has to consciously keep himself from staring at Buck's lips. 

"If you could just find something for me to sleep in? And a pillow and blanket for Christopher."

"Y-yeah," Buck says. His voice cracks and Eddie shivers. "Uh, I don't wanna jostle him, can you- in my closet up in the loft, there should be blankets in there. And I've got extra pillows on my bed, just grab one of those."

Five minutes later Christopher's snuggled with a fleece blanket on the couch and Eddie's turning the TV off. Buck replaces the lamp that's been on all night behind the couch with a nightlight shaped like a firetruck. 

"I'll tidy up down here," Eddie says when Buck starts his way up to the loft. There's a nod of agreement from Buck and then he disappears upstairs, and Eddie takes their empty beer bottles into the kitchen and stands by the sink looking out the window at nothing at all. 

He doesn't know what he's doing. He's invited himself into sharing Buck's bed like it's nothing, just another evening spent together, another late night when the simple thought of driving home is too much to cope with. Only it had always been the other way around until now, Buck spending the night at Eddie's house after takeout and a movie. And always, _always_ on the couch. 

Eddie doesn't know what he's doing. He leaves the plates in the sink. He leaves the empty bottles on the counter and turns off the lights, checks on Christopher, makes sure the door to the apartment is locked. 

Up in the loft Buck's already changed into sweats and a t-shirt. The covers on the bed have been turned down, and damn if that doesn't make Eddie _want_ again. 

"In there," Buck says. Warm light spills into the otherwise darkened loft through the half open bathroom door. "PJs and a new toothbrush."

"Thanks," Eddie says. 

In the bathroom with the door clicked shut behind him he avoids looking at himself in the mirror. He uses the toilet. He washes his hands and brushes his teeth. It's only when he changes into the borrowed clothes laid out for him on the counter that he finds himself staring at his own reflection, eyes gone wide with surprise. 

He can tell right away that the t-shirt and sweats he's wearing didn't come from Buck's dresser drawer. 

It's not that the clothes don't smell clean. It's that they smell like _Buck_.

Eddie's nipples tighten under the soft cotton of Buck's t-shirt. He breathes it all in and his knees go weak, heart drumming a frantic beat. The shudder that travels through him has him digging his teeth into his bottom lip to hold back the noise that's pushing up from inside his chest. 

Buck gave him the clothes he slept in last night, Eddie's somehow sure of it. He's wearing the clothes that touched Buck's skin. 

Something else becomes clear to Eddie then: he knows what his best friend smells like. Knows it well enough to recognize it. 

Eddie's brain short-circuits with that thought. 

Buck gave Eddie his slept-in clothes. Buck, who has a nightlight for Chris in his apartment even though they'd never spent the night before. Who was cradling Eddie's sleeping son against him like something precious. Who was probably flirting with Eddie in his kitchen. Whose bed Eddie's about to get in. 

Buck's clothes. Buck's bed with Buck in it. The sheets that are going to smell like him, too. 

Buck. It's always Buck. Everything is always about Buck. 

Eddie flicks the bathroom lights off when he steps out into the loft, sets his folded clothes on top of the dresser. There's enough illumination to let him see Buck standing across the room from him, the feeble reach of the sodium lights far below them in the street, the muted glow from the nightlight downstairs. 

"I'd take you," Buck whispers into the gloom. Like it means something. 

The deep breath that Eddie sucks in only leaves him dizzier. "I'd never risk hurting you, Buck."

"Because I'm on blood thinners." There's a note of disappointment in the words.

"Because you're my friend. Because you're my _best_ friend. Because I care about you."

Buck huffs. He shifts on his feet, a little awkward, looking like he doesn't quite know what to do with his hands either. 

"What's this even about, Buck? Why are you fixating on this?"

"Eddie." Buck takes a step forward and stops. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "I-I just want-"

"Want what?" Eddie asks when Buck doesn't go on. "To fight me? You think you're gonna feel better if we go a round? Less guilty if I leave a few bruises on you?" He lets his confusion and frustration creep into his voice. "I already said I forgive you, Buck. I do, I forgive you. Can we please move past this."

The sounds of a city that never fully sleeps intrude upon the silence that hangs between them. Sirens blare in the distance. Someone slams their car door shut a little too hard. Music drifts through an open window somewhere, loud enough to be heard but faint enough to be unrecognizable. 

Later, Eddie will remember the exact time when everything made sense; the digits on the alarm clock on Buck's bedside table bleed blue light into the night. 

Buck's throat clicks audibly when he swallows. "I just want your hands on me."

This is it, then. This is where they've been headed from the start. 

Eddie's breath turns shallow; his vision goes fuzzy at the edges. If he could smell Buck on the clothes on his body before, the scent of him is overpowering now, intoxicating as it warms against his flushed skin. And he wants more of it. He wants more of _Buck_.

(It's the age-old paradox: what happens when an irresistible force collides with an immovable object? 

As it goes, Eddie finds out he's not so immovable after all. Because Buck moves him. Buck _moves_ him. Buck moves him in every way.)

They step toward each other at the same time. Everything feels like it's happening in slow motion, like the shadows gathered around them are a sea of molasses pulling at Eddie's legs, at his arms, dragging every movement and making his heart race with the exertion. Dark currents flow through him, fill his lungs and sink hot and heavy into his gut.

 _I just want your hands on me,_ Buck said. A confession or a wish tossed out into the ether.

So Eddie puts his hands on him. He puts his hands on Buck's waist, slides them around to the small of Buck's back. Buck's lips part and Eddie pulls him closer, and he feels Buck's breath against his as their foreheads touch. 

He has to ask. He needs to know. "Are these the clothes you slept in last night?" 

Buck's reply is a heated puff of air against Eddie's lips. "I wanted to know what we'd smell like together."

The spike of lust up Eddie's spine and through his belly makes him weak in the knees again, and he digs his fingers harder into Buck's back, hard enough that Buck whimpers, a tiny hurt sound that Eddie wants to hear again. Buck wraps his arms around Eddie and they hold on to each other, twin sparks about to combust.

"I'll make you smell like us," Eddie whispers, just a second before he takes Buck's lips with his. 

The way Buck opens his mouth against Eddie's, inviting him in, makes Eddie groan into him. Buck's arms tighten around him and they're kissing so hard then, rubbing tongues and sucking lips, harsh breaths through their noses as they drown in each other. Eddie's hands move down to Buck's ass and he squeezes, pulling Buck forward into him, their hips moving together as if they're dancing to those vague notes of music in the air, a slow roll and grind that has them both shaking. 

"Christopher," Buck says. He sounds wrecked. 

"He's a heavy sleeper. He won't wake up if we're not too loud." Eddie pulls back and looks at Buck's face, his kiss-swollen lips and half-lidded eyes. "If this is too much at once we can just go to sleep too." 

Buck lets out a shuddering breath. He drops his arms from around Eddie and walks backward to the bed, shedding his clothes on the way. He lies down on his back and pulls his knees up, raises his arms above his head, wrists crossed and legs spread open like an offering. 

It's the most beautiful thing that Eddie's ever seen. 

"Please," Buck whispers from the bed. 

And Eddie, oh God, Eddie. He thinks he'd die if he couldn't touch Buck right now. He thinks he might die anyway just as soon as they're pressed together skin to skin. 

"Leave the t-shirt on," Buck rasps when Eddie tugs it over his head. 

Eddie puts the t-shirt back on. He takes off the sweats and joins Buck in bed, kneeling between Buck's spread legs. He's seen Buck in various states of undress before, seen him completely naked in the showers at the firehouse. But he's never allowed his gaze to linger until now. And it's dark in the room, just enough light to see with but Buck shines in that dark like a star, almost too bright to look at and too dazzling to look away from. Eddie takes him all in, the angles and planes of his muscular body, the long thick line of his erection and Eddie's cock twitches, balls hanging heavy between his own legs. 

"You're so beautiful you break my heart," Eddie murmurs against Buck's lips when he covers Buck's body with his. Buck arches under him and _oh_ , their cocks slide against each other and Eddie knows he's not going to last. 

"Please," Buck begs again.

And Eddie's gone. He's gone and there's nothing but this now, the two of them trying to merge into a single thing that's made of heat and need, Eddie holding Buck down with his hand around Buck's wrists, their mouths fused together in breathless wet kisses and each sob they trade melts and reshapes Eddie's insides, his t-shirt riding up to his armpits and every stroke of skin on skin electric, flares going off in Eddie's brain, in his belly, and before too long Buck is arching up again, slick hot pulses making a mess between their bodies and _Jesus_ , it's gross and so fucking hot and Eddie rubs and rocks into it and then he's following Buck, pleasure spilling out of him in spurts and he's gone, he's gone, he's gone. 

"Evan," Eddie whispers. He releases Buck's wrists and runs his hands over Buck's sweat-damp body, a lingering caress that follows the trembling lines of Buck's arms and continues down his flanks. 

Buck shudders under him. He wraps his arms around Eddie in an embrace that makes Eddie ache. "I love you, Eddie."

The words bring tears to Eddie's eyes. Buck's still trembling under him and Eddie kisses his lips, sweet and reverent, kneads Buck's perfect ass with a sense of ownership like nothing he's ever felt. Buck's eyes are closed and Eddie kisses his eyelids, rubs his lips against Buck's birthmark, against Buck's ear. "Saying I love you too doesn't feel like enough," Eddie whispers like a secret. 

Buck's arms tighten around him. He kisses Eddie's jaw, nuzzles into Eddie's neck. "I'm gonna bruise," he murmurs.

That remark baffles Eddie for all of five seconds. "The blood thinners." He raises his head and meets Buck's eyes in the dark. 

"Yeah," Buck says. And he grins. "Gonna have your fingerprints all over me."

Eddie's head spins with the thought of Buck walking around with the proof of their consummation imprinted on his fair skin. He takes Buck's mouth in a rough kiss, grinds their sticky bodies together and Buck responds in kind, digging his fingers into Eddie's back and ass as if trying to leave bruises of his own. 

They pry apart eventually. Eddie gets up and peels off the t-shirt he's still wearing, leaves it on the floor for Buck to delight in later. He goes into the bathroom and comes back with a damp washcloth, peppers Buck's body with tender kisses as he wipes Buck clean. 

Under the covers with Buck in his arms, Eddie's suspended between wakefulness and dreams when Buck says sleepily "You're right. Just saying I love you isn't enough. It's so much more than that." 

"Won't just say it," Eddie promises. And he holds Buck tighter to him, keeping him close, forever needing him closer.

All night long, Buck's heart beats strong and steady next to Eddie's.

It's the call of home.

***


End file.
